Something Olde
by Richonne Writing Network
Summary: Five Times Rick and Michonne Slept Together Before They Actually Addressed It. Can a man and a woman ever really be just friends? Rick and Michonne are the best friends that anyone could ask for, including each other, but is that really all they were meant to be? Richonne. AU. No Zombies.
1. Chapter 1

Here is the first entry in this new 5+1 series brought to you by the Richonne Writing Network. RWN is a group where writers can come together for support and to collaborate on projects like this one.

Six amazing writers collaborated on this project: **B and M, blacklitchick, avintagekiss24, Chellepo1977, Tigerwalk,** and **DBirdie17**.

They put a lot of love and hard work into bringing you this story, so it would be **_amazing_** if you left some love for each of them in your reviews.

To find more works from these talented writers, go to our favorite authors section or check out their tumblr pages.

* * *

 **Their Best Friends' Wedding**

 **By B and M**

* * *

"Grimes." Shane placed one hand firmly on his best man's arm and hugged him tight with the other. "Thank you, buddy."

"Of course."

"I, uh, jumped the gun and took this bad boy off before the reception." Shane pulled a blue lace garter out of his pant pocket and dangled it in front of him. "Didn't want to break tradition, though," he said as he shoved it into the front of Rick's jacket like a pocket square. "You're next."

Rick mumbled a _thank you_ out of politeness instead of gratitude as it wasn't exactly a gift he wanted. Meanwhile, Rosita turned toward her maid of honor just beside him.

"I love you," she whispered into her ear as she squeezed her tightly. "Thank you for everything."

"I love you, too," Michonne replied as they swayed back and forth for a moment in their embrace.

"Come on, Mrs. Walsh!" Shane placed his hand on his wife's arm, and began to tug her away, knowing from experience that these two could go on all day if he left them to it. "I don't wanna be another statistic."

Michonne snorted out a laugh at her best friend's husband as they broke up their lovefest.

"OK, go," Michonne insisted as he began to drag Rosita away from her.

Rosita looked back and pushed her bouquet into her maid of honor's hands then waved goodbye.

"Bye!" Michonne called out after the couple.

"Have a great time in Mexico!" Rick shouted.

They watched the newly minted Mr. and Mrs. Walsh hop into the black limousine awaiting them to make their getaway. The car took off, revealing the trail of cans they had tied to the bumper, and the guests laughed and cheered one last time before they began to disperse leaving the best man and maid of honor standing there in a daze amongst the rice scattered on the ground around them.

"We did it," Rick said with quiet relief.

"We did," she agreed.

She turned to see him raising his hands and met his double high five, lightly clasping his hands as they brought them down while leaning into him for a loose hug.

"And now I'm going to go sleep for a week," she decided as they pulled away.

"Really, Michonne?" he scoffed.

"What time did you get up this morning?"

"Nine or ten?" he shrugged.

"Mmm hmm, and what'd you have to do to get ready?"

"Just showered and threw on my tux then went to Walsh's room for some drinks before pictures."

"Right...well, I was up at five so that I could get my hair and makeup done before the bride, then I had to make a Starbucks run because the hotel coffee wasn't up to par, _then_ I had to make sure Rosita had something to eat which means I didn't get to, _and then_ I had to round up the other bridesmaids who overslept-"

"And show me up on the dance floor," he added, "and again with the toasts. Yeah, that does sound exhausting."

"Shut up," she demanded with a slap to his arm.

"It does," he defended. He watched her roll her eyes at him as she stepped out of her heels, and onto the sidewalk with her bare feet. "What are you doing?"

"My feet are killing me."

He shook his head as he watched her gather her shoes into her hands, and straighten up with a hand on her lower back, groaning like an eighty year old woman.

"Hop on," he said, motioning to his back. "I'll drive you home."

She eyed him for a moment. "Seriously?"

"Yeah."

She shrugged and threw her arms around his shoulders and climbed onto his back as he wrapped an arm under each leg to support her. She wasn't too proud to take a piggy back ride across the parking lot, not when it felt this good to be off her feet.

"Can we grab a pizza on the way?" she asked.

"Sure."

"And a six pack?"

He began to laugh. "Sure."

* * *

They sat there on her living room couch doing a fine job of polishing off the large pepperoni pizza that sat in its open box on her coffee table; she in her daffodil yellow chiffon gown with its full skirt pooled around her and he in his black pants and white tux shirt, collar unbuttoned and untied black bowtie hanging around his neck.

"What do you think he meant about not becoming another statistic?" Rick pondered as he held a half-eaten piece of crust in his hand. "Is he thinkin' about divorce already?"

She giggled into her beer bottle as she took the last sip. "No. Fifty-two percent of couples don't have sex on their wedding nights."

"How the hell do you know that?"

"Rosita read it in some wedding magazine," she informed him as she set her empty bottle on the table.

"Well, they don't need to worry about that. I had to run interference with Mrs. Espinosa while they got it on in the back room at the church."

"I guess wedding day doesn't count," she shrugged.

"Guess not," he said as he stood from the couch and motioned toward her empty bottle. "You want another?"

"I do," she sighed as she tugged at the bodice of her gown, "but I'm literally about to bust out of this thing. I'm gonna go change."

"OK."

She headed off to her bedroom, and he to her kitchen.

"Shit. Hey Rick?"

"Yeah?" he called out from his spot in front of the fridge.

"Can you give me a hand?"

He turned to see her standing in the living room, still in her dress. She turned and pointed to her back as he approached.

"Zipper's stuck," she complained, though he had already gathered that.

He held the back of her dress with one hand as he took the zipper in the other then paused for a moment, mesmerized by her smooth skin and the delicate contours of her back and shoulders. He had found himself doing the same thing during their obligatory first dance at the reception. Only there, with a roomful of eyes on them, he had kept his hands in safe places, one on her side and the other holding her hand as they swayed to the music at a safe distance, but here…

He shook his head to refocus then wiggled the zipper a few times until it smoothly slid all the way down to her waist, exposing more of her lovely skin. Unable to let the rare chance pass him by, he slid his hand up to her shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"Got it."

"Thanks," she said softly.

He could feel the tension from a long, hectic day in her muscles, so he tentatively began to knead them with his fingers. She tilted her head to the side, inviting him to continue, and sighed quietly as he increased the pressure. His other hand abandoned her dress and moved up to her other shoulder, allowing her dress slip down to her waist. She didn't seem to mind as she leaned into him, so he leaned down and pressed his lips against the curve of her neck, causing her to let out a low moan.

It felt like they were moving in slow motion, acutely aware of the dangerous game they were playing, yet steadily taking it further and further…

That all changed, though, when she turned and wrapped her arms around his neck. They leaned in simultaneously, lips meeting for the first time, and everything after that was a blur.

Lips colliding, tongues tangling, clothes falling to the ground, hands roaming as they moved toward the couch in a frenzy. She fell back and he landed on top of her. Kissing and grinding turned into thrusting which resulted in _the_ most absurd amount of pleasure that no one in their right mind would want to end. They just kept at it until...

Release.

He collapsed on top of her, both breathing heavily, then rolled off, landing between the back of the couch and her side. And as the oxygen returned to their brains, the realization of what they had just done hit them and an awkward silence ensued. After staring at the ceiling for a few moments, Michonne cleared her throat and shifted slightly.

"Thanks for helping with that."

"Uh, yeah, no problem."

The silence set in again.

"I'm gonna go change," she decided after about ten seconds of staring at the ceiling.

He nodded and kept his eyes glued to the ceiling as she rolled off the couch and started for her bedroom, collecting her dress and lingerie from the floor as she went.

"You still want another beer?" he called out once she cleared made it to the hallway.

"Yeah. Sure."

He nodded and looked over at the pieces of his tux spread across the floor, and wondered what the statistic was for best men and maids of honor having sex on the wedding night because surely they couldn't be the only ones to fall into this situation. Right?


	2. Chapter 2

Wow! Thank you all so much for supporting this project and these talented, dedicated writers! It is so appreciated (and fun)!

Here is the second entry in this 5+1 series written by **B and M, blacklitchick, avintagekiss24, Chellepo1977, Tigerwalk,** and **DBirdie17**.

They put a lot of love and hard work into bringing you this story, so it would be **_amazing_** if you continued share the love in your reviews.

To find more works from these writers, go to our favorite authors section or check out their tumblr pages.

* * *

 **House Repairs**

 **By blacklitchick**

* * *

Michonne didn't want to laugh, but couldn't help herself when she opened the door. Rick stood on her front porch with his hands on his hips, and a tan, suede tool belt hanging around his waist.

He frowned at her before looking down at himself. "What?"

She pointed at the toolbelt. "I think you know what."

"My tool belt? You need some fixin' and I have tools." He gestured to the door. "You lettin' me in or…."

She used her body to block the doorway; refusing to let him in. "Not without an explanation on why that thing is around your waist."

"I'll have you know this is a vintage belt passed down from my great grandfather to my grandpa to my dad and then to me."

Michonne crossed her arms. "I guess vintage is one way to describe it."

Rick tilted his head. "I drop everythang to come over to fix your kitchen sink and you make fun of me." He pursed his lips into an exaggerated pout.

Michonne giggled. "No, no. Don't do that. You're right. I should be more grateful." She opened the door wide to let him inside. "I'm in desperate need of your help."

"As long as we're on the same page now."

"That we are."

He entered the kitchen first. Her eyes followed the swagger of his hips in his signature walk. She noticed how he glanced over at the couch they'd christened a couple weeks before. She had flashbacks every time she sat on it. Which sent her through an array of emotions that she always put a lid on.

Rick's drawl snapped her back into the present as he kneeled over the puddles of water on the floor in front of the clogged kitchen sink. "By this mess, I'm guessing you tried to fix it yourself."

"Of course I did. My mama and daddy raised me to be an independent women. But they also indulged my need to be cute, and," she held up her right hand, "I broke two fingernails trying to unscrew that damn pipe."

Rick chuckled. "And now I'm here to save the day. Should have brought my cape."

"Don't make me regret calling you."

He blocked her trying to walk closer to the sink with his arm. "Move back, ma'am. Wouldn't want you to get hurt."

Michonne rolled her eyes and threw one of her kitchen towels at him.

He dodged her throw then unbuckled his toolbelt and placed it on the counter. "How long has it been clogged?"

"About two days now."

"Why didn't you call me sooner?"

MIchonne shrugged. "Didn't want to bother you."

Rick gave her a sincere smile. "You're never a bother."

She looked down as her lips curved up; a rush of heat rolled down her body. She cleared her throat and sat at the kitchen table.

"Have you talked to Shane since he and Rosita got back from Mexico?" She felt the need to change the subject.

Rick grimaced as he pulled out a wrench from his toolbelt. "They asked you about going to that concert too?"

"Yeah. It's a Queen cover band. Rosita's good friends with the lead singer."

"A group of people pretending to be a legendary band? Why go see them when I could just listen to the CD of the originals?"

"Don't be a spoilsport. It'll be fun."

"I'd rather be on my couch drinking a beer."

"Yeah, that's why we're always trying to get you out of the house to do stuff with us."

Rick chuckled. "I'm pretty sure you can get me to do anything."

Michonne rubbed the back of her neck. "Oh. Well…"

Rick turned a light shade of red. "I...I...was saying...you know...talk me into going places with everyone."

"I mean, of course. I knew that's what you meant."

Rick looked under the sink. "So...um...did you turn the water off before you tried to fix it?"

"I think I did."

He tried to turn the pipe with his wrench. "The valve feels loose so -" Before he could finish the sentence, water blasted from the pipe drenching both the floor and Rick.

Michonne jumped from her seat. "Oh, Rick. You're soaked."

He swung the wrench to the right until the water stopped. "At least we know the pipes are working."

"Let me go get some towels to mop up that mess. I have one of my brother's old shirts around you can put on." She rushed to the laundry room. She paused in the doorway upon her return. Rick had taken off his shirt and was using it to wipe the stray droplets off his torso.

Her eyes focused on his glistening muscles, remembering how good the weight of his body felt when he was on top of her. She dropped the towels to the floor then tried to hand him the shirt, but her hands had other ideas as her fingers brushed against the scar just above his ribs.

"How did you get this?" She whispered.

Rick's stare was intense as he held his breath and focused on the trajectory of her fingers."Knife fight back in the day."

"I'm serious."

"I am too. Back when me and Shane first joined the force. Had a suspect who was tripping off a severe cocktail of drugs. I tried to stop him from hurting himself and ended up getting stabbed."

"I never knew." Her fingers kept tracing.

"It wasn't as serious as the scar makes it seem. More of a surface wound than anything."

"I'm grateful for that."

"Me too."

Michonne lifted her head and their eyes spoke the words that couldn't be vocalized. She didn't know who made the first move, but when their lips touched the passion was undeniable.

Their kiss never broke as he walked her backwards across the wet floor; both almost slipping. He gripped her hips and lifted her onto the table. A flurry of both their hands had her tank and yoga pants on the floor within seconds. She laid back naked on the table as his mouth trailed wet kisses from her neck to her breasts. Her hands clamped on to his curls as his tongue circled her nipple before grazing the harden peak with his teeth and slipping it into his mouth. Michonne moaned as he moved to her other breast.

He kissed down her body until he found her center. He paused to breath her in then closed his lips over her wetness. Michonne cried out and tightened the grip on his hair. Her hips bucked trying to feel his whole mouth as she felt herself going over the edge.

He lifted her again and pulled her onto his lap as he plopped down on one of the kitchen chairs. She straddled him and unbuttoned his jeans. He raised his hips to pull down the jeans and boxers. His mouth found hers again; tongues fighting for control until they had to pull away to catch their breaths. She gasped against his lips as he slowly entered her.

"God, you feel so good," he breathed into her ear as she started to ride him.

His hands roamed over her naked body, stopping to grip her ass as he held her tight. She didn't think she'd ever felt anything as good as their first night on the couch until her second orgasm took her over. The pain and pleasure of his teeth biting her shoulder as he rode out his own ecstasy almost made her explode for a third time.

Rick rested his forehead on her chest; his head moving to the rhythm of breath. She held onto the back of his curls enjoying the feel of their bodies still wrapped together. The sounds of traffic outside her window brought her back to reality. She tapped him on the shoulder and he slowly raised his head. They held each other's gazes for a moment before averting their eyes. Awkward tension filled the air as Michonne stood to look for her clothes; déjà vu setting in.

She turned her back to get dressed again. Rick pulled up his jeans and boxers before slipping on the borrowed shirt.

A quick rap on her front door broke the tension in the room. She rushed to answer it, mentally praying it wasn't someone they both knew on the other side. She was relieved when she saw the box sitting on the porch.

"It was the mailman," she said as she walked back to the kitchen. "I forgot the glass bowls I ordered were coming today."

"Don't you have enough fancy bowls?"

"You can never have enough fancy bowls." She smirked at him. "Aren't you supposed to be fixing my sink." She was glad they were back to their usual banter.

He picked his wrench. "Yes, ma'am."

Michonne watched the veins in Rick's forearm bulge as he started tinkering with the pipes again. She sighed and shook her head not knowing what she had gotten herself into.


	3. Chapter 3

You guys are amazing! Thank you for your enthusiasm for this story! Now who could use some cheering up today?

Here is the third entry in this 5+1 series brought to you by **B and M, blacklitchick, avintagekiss24, Chellepo1977, Tigerwalk,** and **DBirdie17**.

They put a lot of love and hard work into bringing you this story, so it would be **_amazing_** if you left some love for them in your reviews.

To find more works from these talented writers, go to our favorite authors section or check out their tumblr pages.

* * *

 **Star Gazing**

 **By avintagekiss24**

* * *

"You know," Rick starts, moving some branches out her way, "You pretty girls usually don't like to hike."

Michonne laughs loudly as the sun sets just beyond them, "What kind of girls are you hanging out with, Grimes?"

He laughs in return, "Oh, you know what I mean. Your type doesn't eat when out on a date, or you don't want to sweat because it'll mess up your makeup. Always fiddling with your hair and shit."

"Umm, sounds to me your hanging around the wrong kind of girls." She laughs.

He laughs again, nodding his head in agreement, "That could be entirely true."

"Well," she starts, gazing around the trees and grass as the sky continues to turn pink and orange, "I'm not bougie. I love to hike. It clears my head."

"Me too. There's something about just being out in the world, you know? Makes you feel small."

She cuts her eyes over at him, a slow smirk spreading on her face, "I couldn't have put it any better myself, Grimes. Well, aren't you surprisingly deep."

The two of them move through the trees slowly, chatting about everything from cookies to politics to art to love. The sun completes it decline and the sky moves from its brilliant pinks and oranges to a dark blue, with the stars adding a natural, dull light. They stop after a while, plopping down in the grass next to one another to truly admire the world that surrounds them. Rick places his arm behind his head as Michonne splays her hand over her stomach. He glances over at her, his eyes wandering down the length of her body before they land back on the side of her face. He's met a lot of woman in his twenty some odd years, but no one like his present company. She's gorgeous. She's natural and confident and happy and… good. Did he say gorgeous? Because she's fucking gorgeous. His mind begins to think back to their last encounter at her house. It was innocent enough, but it left him needing more. She's like a cancer; he can't even breathe without her invading his thoughts.

"What are you thinking about over there?" She asks suddenly, her voice soft and playful.

"Kissing you."

She rolls her head to face him, finding his eyes already on her. They stare at each other for a moment, another smile spreading across her face. Her eyes twinkle as they search his face in wonder. He is so weird; but she likes him. She likes his kisses too. She laughs a little, sighing a happy sigh before she turns her eyes back toward the sky. She likes him but she's just not sure about him, not yet anyway. She squints a little as her eyes search the wide, dark sky. She wants to ask him what exactly is going on between them but that would mean that she'd have to put some thought into it herself. So instead, she reaches her hand out and points toward a cluster of stars.

"You know what that is?"

Rick smiles a little, rolling his head toward her hand, "Nope."

She laughs, "That's the Little Dipper, you goof. You see the bright one there?"

"I do."

"That's Polaris. It is approximately 432 light years away from earth."

"Holy shit," he chuckles lowly, rolling his head toward her, "How do you know that?"

She shrugs as another bright smile breaks out onto her face. She moves her head, connecting her eyes with his once again, "I like the sky."

"I like you," he spits out almost immediately.

She blinks slowly before she bites on her bottom lip with her teeth. She's falling under his stupid spell again; but she kinda likes that too, "You still thinking about kissing me?" She asks quietly.

He nods, "Yes."

"Where?"

A slow smile creeps up on his face as they continue to stare at each other, "Anywhere you want me to."

She points to her stomach, lifting her shirt to show off her brown skin, "Here?"

Rick rolls over to his side, his large hand sliding across her stomach as he plants his warm lips on her flat tummy. He closes his eyes as he peppers her skin with light kisses, laughing a little himself as her stomach tightens at his touch. She lifts her hand to her chest and he follows her directions without hesitation. He kisses her soft breast through her shirt firmly, even nuzzling against her bosom with his cheek. Her navigational finger shifts to her chin and he follows quickly, nipping at her chin with his teeth before kissing her sweetly. Before she can plant her long finger on her lips, he's there, sucking the air right out of her lungs before she can process it. They both inhale deeply, Rick's hand splaying across her exposed stomach.

His fingers inch down to the rim of her jean shorts, working themselves down into her panties as he nips at the flesh of her neck. She gasps lightly as his fingers begin to rub slow circles against her, her head swimming as he whispers sweet nothings into her ear. His nimble fingers pop the button to her jeans and unzips the short zipper quickly. She wiggles her hips, helping him push them down her legs before he returns his fingers to her hips to remove her from her white, lace panties. He rolls on top of her and her fingers get to work on his zipper. She glances up at him, her eyes meeting his and smiles mischievously, biting her bottom lip as she grabs him.

Rick's eyes close as she grips him, stroking him lightly. "God, you're incredible," He pants, causing her to giggle a little.

She spreads her legs to wrap them around his waist, using her feet to push his jeans down. She wiggles her hips a little as Rick adjusts, pushing himself at her opening. He hesitates for a second before he pushes past her barrier slowly, his mouth dropping open as she envelopes him. They both let out satisfied breaths as he pushes himself to his hilt inside of her, wiggling his hips slowly as he adjusts to her. Michonne pushes her fingers up into his shirt, scraping her nails against his skin as he withdraws from her, only to push back in to fill her up. Rick kisses her again as his hips start their pace. He buries his face into her neck, his fingers tips pushing into and gripping her hair as he plops lazy kisses along her collarbone.

Michonne tangles her fingers into his messy hair as her body rocks with his. His hands are all over her, palming her breasts, squeezing her sides, and then back in her hair as he pounds into her lower half. Sweats springs up on their foreheads, their breaths rushed and hot as they mumble and murmur incoherent words. Her veins feel like fire as anticipation races through her, her orgasm brewing quickly in the pit of her stomach. Rick slips his hand down to her wet folds and begins massaging her again, wanting her to come all around him.

"You gonna come for me, baby?" He whispers, "Come for me, Michonne. Give it to me, baby."

Michonne slams her eyes shut as his words mix with her lust. His hips and fingers continue their assault on her, pushing her closer and closer to her end until she finally breaks. Her body tightens around him as she begins to convulse, her voice catching in her throat as her orgasm rips through her small body. Rick rubs her in quick circles as he continues to slam into her, his own body beginning to quiver with his own release in mind. He pushes into her one last time and loses himself, spilling his hot seed into her pulsating muscles. It takes minutes for them both to regain what little composure they had as they ride the waves of their orgasms until they completely subside. Rick rolls off her and back into the grass, staring up into the dark sky as he pulls his pants back up around his waist. Michonne wiggles back into her underwear and shorts then returns her gaze to the stars.

More time passes between them, neither one speaking a word. Their minds race, but they can't form the words. Neither one of them really wanting to say the words. She points up again, just as a meteor streaks across the vast, dark sky, "Look! Did you see?" She asks, her voice light, "Rick?"

He blinks slowly, following the speeding rock across the sky until he can't see it any longer, "Yeah. It was beautiful."

She rolls her head toward him, causing him to do the same. They don't say anything else. They just look at each other, slow smiles spreading on their faces as a cool breeze whips around them. She bites her lip again and lets her eyes scan around his face, "Yeah. It was."


	4. Chapter 4

We're having so much fun with this series! Thank you for your support!

Here is the fourth entry in this 5+1 series brought to you by **B and M, blacklitchick, avintagekiss24, Chellepo1977, Tigerwalk,** and **DBirdie17**.

They put a lot of love and hard work into bringing you this story, so it would be **_amazing_** if you continued to show your love for them in your reviews.

To find more works from these talented writers, go to our favorite authors section or check out their tumblr pages.

* * *

 **Concert Fun**

 **By Chellepo1977**

* * *

"Admit it. This is more fun than sitting on your couch with a beer," The band was between songs and Michonne was facing him wearing a smug grin.

Rick was trying his best not to be a "spoilsport", but so far he'd only succeeded in reminding himself why cover bands weren't his thing. The slight buzz he had, as a side effect of pre-gaming at Shane's to avoid paying $10 for small cups filled with weak beer, kept him sociable but the best thing about the concert was Michonne; especially since their friends were all coupled up. He wasn't about to admit that to her though.

"Jury's still out," he shrugged and she twisted her lips to hide a smile. She surprised him by draping her arms around his neck.

"Dance with me, you stubborn man," she demanded, her happy smile not letting him refuse her.

Soon, her sinuous body was flush against his and he held on to her waist as she rocked her hips to _Under Pressure_ …which he most certainly body moved in ways designed to hypnotize and her skin glistened with sweat which made her thin, summer dress stick to her curves and his mouth go dry. Everything about her was so sexy and he could kick himself for not acknowledging it sooner. He had to remind himself to keep the dance "friendly" as they were with their friends, however, his body didn't quite get the memo. By the end of the song, she had to feel what the friction between their bodies had done to him.

"Anyone need water?" she asked the group but her eyes were still fixed on his as she slowly released him from her arms but not her spell.

She waved off their friends money and headed toward the concession stands taking his attention with her. His eyes followed her in that sinfully short dress, biting his lip at the vision of her perfect backside bouncing with every swish of her hips. A glance over her shoulder and a flirty smile was all the invitation he needed to follow her.

After making sure their friends were busy worshipping _Bohemian Rhapsody_ like they were really Queen, he followed her. It was hard enough trying to explain what was going on between them to himself and he had no idea how to begin explaining it to anyone else. All he knew was that he enjoyed every moment they spent together and he'd follow her anywhere for more of those moments.

He found her standing at the end of a long concession line and he rushed to join her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. She slid her arms over his and laughed under her breath.

"That wasn't fair, Michonne. Dancing with me like that and then leaving," he pouted.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she teased. "It's hot and I needed a bottle of water."

"I need you," he whispered, grinding his hips into her so she could feel just how much he needed her. A shaky breath escaped her as her head fell back against his shoulder allowing him to start a trail of kisses down the side of her neck.

"We're in public." Her weak excuse made him chuckle.

"We were in public on our hike last week," he argued, before continuing his heated assault on her neck as the line continued to move forward.

"Yeah, but we weren't surrounded by hundreds of people...and I'd hate to be arrested for public indecency, Deputy," she grinned, making sure to highlight his title and emphasizing her point.

She was right, but the devil on his shoulder wasn't hearing it. In fact, it gleefully reminded him of a time when he'd picked up an extra shift working security at a music festival at that very same amphitheater and caught some kids smoking weed in a dark corner behind the concession stands. She must've noticed the grin stretching across his face because she raised an eyebrow.

Leaving one arm around her waist, he guided them out of line and toward one of the already darkened concession stands.

"Rick...what are you doing?" she asked.

"Finding us some privacy," he answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Her breathy laugh was music to his ears as he pulled her around the corner of the building where she ended up sandwiched between the wall and his body. The music and the cheers of the crowd was all around them but they were shielded from view in their own oasis in the middle of the madness.

"Are you drunk, Grimes?" The lights from the stage were reflected in her eyes making her look almost ethereal.

"Only on you," he whispered before his mouth urgently descended on hers. His hands shook as they trailed down her neck, to gently knead her breasts as their mouths and tongues became reacquainted.

His hands continued to roam under her dress and he smiled against her lips when her fingers started working on his belt. He broke their kiss with a sharp intake of breath when she slid her warm palm inside his pants and his eyes clenched shut at the exquisite pleasure she was giving him.

"Is all of this for me?" Her sultry whisper coupled with her talented hand robbed him of the ability to speak. She shifted her stance, bringing her leg up to wrap around his waist and drawing him in even closer.

His fingers eagerly moved inside her lacy panties where that paradise between her thighs was ready and waiting for him to fill. She was so hot and wet, telling him she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

His mouth found hers again, swallowing the soft moans his fingers coaxed out of her. He was using everything he'd learned about her body during their few times together to please her; touching and teasing the places he knew would make her shiver.

She pushed his shorts lower on his hips, freeing him from their prison. Using his shoulders as leverage, she raised herself up just high enough to make their slightly awkward position work.

"Rick…please…," she begged, tearing her mouth from his and the needy tremble in her voice turned his mind to static.

Losing himself for a minute, he tore her panties from her before sheathing himself inside her tight, little body with one hard stroke. The swell of the music drowned out their frenzied gasps and how good she felt fed his growing addiction to being inside her.

He held onto her lush backside as he began to move; her body gloriously trembling with every thrust. Her head fell back against the wall revealing the hollow of her throat and enticing him to taste the salt on her sun-kissed skin.

Her body fluttered beneath him, signaling him to her impending orgasm making him desperate to feel her come apart all around him. The leg she'd kept on the ground for balance started to give and he shifted to fully support her as he continued driving toward the ridiculous levels of pleasure they were striving to reach. He was nearing his tipping point but he couldn't leave her behind.

"Are you with me, baby," he gritted out between hard breaths.

"I'm with you, " she breathed but the rest was lost in a moan as her fingers tightened in his hair and she finally went over the edge taking him with her. He was sure he saw God as he spilled inside of her in a crescendo of ragged curses and moans.

Their foreheads rested against each other as they descended from their high to the soundtrack of the crowd cheering the song's end.

He opened his eyes and found her soulful dark eyes seemingly looking right through him. The air around them was charged with things left unspoken.

"Michonne, I…" he began, but he was incapable of stringing the words together. So he kissed her instead, hoping it was enough.

"We better get back," she whispered as the kiss ended and reality started settling in. He sighed his agreement, taking a few steps backwards to right his pants and to give her space to fix her dress.

A sliver of something white on the ground caught his attention in the darkness and when he bent down to retrieve it, she giggled.

"What?" he asked, a blush warming his cheeks as he realized exactly what he was holding.

"You owe me a new pair, that's all," she quipped. He shoved the flimsy piece of fabric into his pocket like a souvenir.

"Looks that way," he agreed.

"Just for that, you get to go buy everyone water and I'll meet you there?" she smiled and he nodded; watching her walk towards the restroom, biting his lip as the chorus of the song the band was covering floated to his ears. Fat bottomed girls really did make the rockin' world go round.


	5. Chapter 5 - Poker Night

Here is the fifth entry in this 5+1 series brought to you by **B and M, blacklitchick, avintagekiss24, Chellepo1977, Tigerwalk,** and **DBirdie17**.

They put a lot of love and hard work into bringing you this story, so it would be **_amazing_** if you left some love for them in your reviews.

To find more works from these talented writers, go to our favorite authors section or check out their tumblr pages.

* * *

 **Poker Night**

 **By Tigerwalk**

* * *

"You're a hustler," Glenn said, pointing his beer bottle across the table at Michonne. "No way you're just that lucky."

Michonne was scooping up handfuls of poker chips from the center of the table and stacking them into neat little piles. "Don't be a sore loser, Rhee," she said. "It's not a good look."

Rick was to her left, chuckling over a bowl of popcorn he had commandeered for himself when he got knocked out of the round. He had it sitting on his lap, where he could easily reach it, while leaning an arm casually over the back of Michonne's chair. He had been close by all night. In fact, since the concert a few weeks prior, and their secret tryst behind the stage, he'd been close to her more often than not when the group was together. It hadn't been the first time, or even the second time...actually, how many times had it been now? She couldn't really remember, but something had been different about the last time they had hooked up. If that's what you called sleeping with one of your best friends on a regular basis. Maybe there was a different name for it when you knew someone as well as she knew Rick. Hooking up didn't seem like the right word. Friends with benefits sounded too...business-like.

She reached over to take a handful of popcorn from his bowl, deciding now was not the time to go down that rabbit hole of trying to figure out what she and Rick were doing. She'd already told herself to just enjoy it and not try too hard to analyze it, but still, the way he kissed her the last time was distinctively different, and he seemed like he wanted to say something when they were standing there staring at each other afterwards.

"Well, that's it for us," Maggie said, standing from her chair and putting a hand on her boyfriend's shoulder. "Glenn's out of money and I'm out of wine. We're gonna call it a night."

"It's ten o'clock!" Michonne exclaimed. "Since when do you guys ditch out early?"

"Since they all got old and started marrying off," Rick joked, pointing his thumb behind him where Shane and Rosita were packing up their things. Rosita had had her coat on since Shane had folded his last hand, and Andrea hadn't even participated in the last round.

"I've gotta work in the morning," Shane defended.

Michonne watched their friends mill around Rick's house, finding keys and grabbing leftovers for the road. He made his way to the door to see everyone off, but instead of getting her own coat, Michonne started collecting beer bottles and ferrying them into the kitchen. She had nowhere to be, so she figured she should at least help him clean up a bit.

When he had closed the door on the last of them, Rick met her at the sink while she was rinsing out her wine glass. "You don't want to have another?" he asked, opening the fridge to pull out a beer for himself.

"I shouldn't. I have to drive."

"You don't have to." He was leaning up against the counter with his thumb hooked casually in his belt, staring at her with that lopsided grin she had recently come to realize was sexy as hell.

It was tempting, but she was supposed to meet Sasha for yoga the next morning, and there was no way she was going to get away with staying at Rick's without one of their friends finding out. Plus, maybe sleeping over would put whatever they were doing– the thing she decided not to name– into another category all together. She hadn't even worked this one out yet.

She still hadn't answered him, when he pushed off the counter and crossed the room to start putting away the various food left on the table, so she just let the moment pass.

"Feels like everyone really is getting old," she said, grabbing a casserole dish from the spot he was cleaning and dropping it in the sink. "Since the wedding, it's harder and harder to get everyone together."

"Yeah, well, things change, I guess." He handed her the last of the cookies Maggie brought, before wiping the crumbs into the trash. "Doesn't have to be a bad thing."

"No?"

"No," he said, his back still turned to her. "I mean, we still all get together, but it's ok if sometimes it's just a few of us...or two of us."

Michonne watched as the tips of his ears started to turn pink as he spoke, and her belly fluttered against her will. She chewed on her bottom lip as her head defied her previous orders and started examining the situation yet again.

Rick brushed his hands off on his jeans and reached for his beer, finally turning in her direction.

"Um, thanks for hosting," she said, deciding to make a break for it while she still could.

"Anytime."

She gathered her coat and purse, heading for the door with Rick right behind her. "I'll see you next weekend, then?"

"Yeah. I'll be there." He reached around her to open the door, then, without warning, wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed his lips to hers, as if they'd never said goodbye any other way.

Her hand came up to cup his cheek as he released her, and the urgency she'd felt to leave disappeared. He still had one hand on the doorknob, but she made no move to walk through the threshold, so he leaned in again, this time parting his lips to deepen the kiss. He pressed her against the door jamb, reaching blindly behind him to set his beer bottle down on the entryway table, then grabbed her hips with his newly-free hand.

"You sure you have to go?" he whispered, as his mouth traveled to the curve of her jaw.

"I guess it is still kinda early. For a Saturday night."

"You were just giving them a hard time for letting the night end." His hands traveled from her waist to the curve of her behind, squeezing with just enough pressure to remind her why they kept doing this.

She dropped her purse and coat on the ground, threading her fingers through his hair. "I wouldn't want to be a hypocrite," she said, half laughing and half gasping at the sensation of his tongue darting against her skin.

Rick pushed her things out of the way with his foot, then closed the door and lifted her into his arms. "No. We wouldn't want that."

He carried her down the hall to his bedroom, setting her on her back in the center of his mattress, then pulled his t-shirt over his head. He was smiling at her in a way that told her this was going to be different than the quickies they'd had on her couch or in her kitchen; definitely different than getting off as quickly as possible in the middle of a public place.

He joined her on the bed, crawling over her on his hands and knees, and buried his face in her neck, alternating between kisses and tiny nips to her skin. He undid her pants, torturing her by inching them slowly down her legs, stopping to mark each newly-exposed patch of skin with his mouth.

"You're killing me, Rick," she giggled, kicking her legs to try to help him along. She already knew what was coming and she wanted it now. He stopped her, though, with a gentle hand on her thigh, and resumed his lazy exploration.

"No need to rush," he muttered against the edge of her satin panties, before hooking a finger into them and pulling them aside. "Like you said, night's still young."

* * *

The next morning, the alarm on her phone began buzzing loudly, and Michonne rolled over to see Rick asleep with his head buried in the pillow and his cute, little ass peeking out from the sheet that was barely covering him. Images from the night before came rushing into her sleepy brain; her nails digging into his skin as he rocked into her slowly the first time, the way she'd seen a myriad of different emotions play out on his face every subsequent time after that.

She was recalling them all when he began to stir, and she tore her eyes away from him and quickly quieted the noise on her phone.

"Hey," he said, lifting his head to smile at her.

"Hi." She held the sheet over her own body as they exchanged morning greetings, then stared at each other for a few more moments. "Um, I have yoga, so I should probably get going. I don't want Sasha to see me pulling in the driveway when she comes to pick me up."

"Right," he said, rolling over and setting his feet on the ground. He reached down to grab his boxer shorts from the floor and pulled them over his hips as she took one more look at him from behind. When he was covered from the waist down, he tossed her her own underwear that were still tangled up in the covers at the foot of the bed. She thanked him with a smile and he came around to her side of the bed, bending over to touch her face and kiss her mouth. "I'll make you some coffee before you go."

"Ok," she agreed, swallowing hard as his hand trailed away from her cheek. She watched him go out the door, before standing to get dressed, and her mind started racing again. This was definitely different.


	6. Chapter 6 - Pub Night

Here is the final entry in this 5+1 series brought to you by **B and M, blacklitchick, avintagekiss24, Chellepo1977, Tigerwalk,** and **DBirdie17**.

We're so sad that it has come to an end! What a ride it's been! All of us would like to thank you for checking out our story and for your support along the way. We had so much fun!

Stay tuned for the next RWN project coming soon!

* * *

 **Pub Night**

 **By DBirdie17**

* * *

"You look hot tonight," Rosita said, pulling her friend in for a quick hug as they made their way back from the ladies room. "But you always do."

"You're a bad liar," Michonne cracked, secretly relishing the compliment.

"Oh, stop," Rosita reprimanded before pulling off one of her infamous eye rolls. "There are too many cute guys here tonight for you to pull that fake modesty crap."

"Hmm, we'll see," Michonne mumbled, oblivious to the group of men she was pointing to. "Can you order me my usual? I want to check something out."

"Some _thing_ or some _one?"_ Rosita teased, a little too pointedly, on her way back to Shane.

Michonne shot her a look, then ambled up to the vacant billiard table and grabbed a cue stick off the wall. It had been a while since she last played, so she figured she could use the practice, not to mention a little breather from the clatter of the now-crowded bar.

Although she loved pub night with her friends, she was finding it difficult to hang with them tonight, especially Rick. Not that being with him was a bad thing. On the contrary, he was all she thought about since poker night, and if she were being honest with herself, Rosita and Shane's wedding. The problem was, the more time she spent with him, the more she realized that it wasn't enough.

And there he was, laughing with Shane and the gang at a nearby table, looking fine in those jeans and plaid button-down, with the sleeves rolled up just enough to display those amazing forearms of his. Damn, she loved those arms, especially when they were wrapped around her, but she wondered how much longer that would last. Even though she sensed something had shifted between them last week, she figured they'd eventually move on from their unspoken arrangement, right?

"You play?" she heard an unfamiliar yet friendly voice ask, snapping her out of her reverie. She looked over to see a cute guy standing at the other end of the table casually sipping his beer.

"I can hold my own," she smiled, grateful for the distraction.

"For some reason, that doesn't surprise me," the stranger laughed, obviously impressed with her. "How about a game?"

Michonne took a cursory glance around the pub and noticed that her friends were all occupied in one way or another.

"Sure," she replied as she chalked her cue. "You rack. I break."

"Sounds good to me," he smiled, holding out his hand. "I'm Chris."

"Michonne."

"Game on, Michonne."

* * *

Rick fiddled with the bottle in his hand, nearly knocking it off the table. His preoccupation with the billiard game, along with his agitation, didn't go unnoticed.

"Hello?" Shane shouted, snapping his fingers in Rick's face. "You didn't hear a word I said, did you?"

"I'm listening," he replied, which wasn't entirely untrue. He had been straining to hear every word between Michonne and that guy, whoever the hell he was, and he suddenly regretted it. What started out as harmless flirting morphed into something else, at least on his end, and Rick was surprised by how much that bothered him. He knew he didn't have any claim on her, but he couldn't help feel like he'd been sucker punched when he overheard him ask her out. Not that he could blame him. If the roles were reversed, he'd sure as hell make a move.

"Yeah, right," Shane grinned, getting a good sense of what was going on. "You ok there, bro?"

"I'm good," he lied, before polishing off the last of the bottle. It dawned on him that either she hadn't answered him yet or he hadn't heard it, and he was suddenly grateful for that. If she was interested in the guy, who was he to interfere?

"You look like you need another round," Shane offered.

"Maybe later," Rick replied as he stood up. "I think I'm going to get some air. It's stuffy as hell in here."

Desperate to escape the noise and clear his head, he maneuvered his way toward the exit. Once outside, he inhaled sharply, hoping the oxygen would dispel some of his anger.

"Goddamn it," he cursed aloud as he pinched the bridge of nose. "I'm an asshole."

He found a spot to sit on the curb, plopped his elbows on his knees, and lowered his head toward the ground, ruffling the curls on the back of his head in frustration. What was he doing? Michonne was funny, smart, adventurous, and the sexiest woman he'd ever seen. He loved how easy it was to be with her and how right it felt. So why hadn't _he_ asked her out when he had the chance? It's not like they weren't sexually compatible, because god knows they were, so what the hell was his problem?

After a few minutes he reached his limit for indulgent self-pity and looked up at the night sky, spotting the Little Dipper. It instantly brought him back to the day, and specifically that evening, when they hiked together. It dawned on him that for all their stargazing, they had been foolishly short sighted.

He sighed.

" _You fucking blew it, Grimes,"_ he thought.

"I see you're checking out those stars again," Rick heard Michonne say. He practically leapt up and turned around to find her sauntering up to him, her hands in her crop-jacket pockets. "Can't say I blame you."

She lifted her gaze upward, while Rick, having lost all interest in the cosmos, couldn't keep his off her.

"That was a quick game," he replied, unable to hide his mild surprise. "Kicked his ass already?"

"You could say that," she chided, knowing full well that Rick, who could have cared less about the game, had timed his exit purposefully to avoid the outcome of the discussion.

"Huh," he smirked, feeling his heart picking up its pace with each step closer she took. "So I take it no rematch then."

Michonne smiled, shaking her head "no" as she lightly pressed her finger into his chest. The corners of his lips turned upward quizzically, and Michonne could tell he liked the direction things were heading.

"I'm saving my A-game for someone else."

Rick leaned into her, trying in vain to stifle what he knew was an idiotic grin. ""Do you even have a B-game? Because if you do, I've never seen it."

"Well," Michonne started to admit, grinning as she nudged his arm. "Maybe it's because I've had a pretty good sparring partner of late."

Suddenly, she felt bashful, despite feeling more at ease with him than anyone else. Although she had grown quite fond of their tête-à-têtes, last week's encounter was a little too intimate for this _thing_ between them to go anywhere but where it was about to. She knew there was something different about this moment, and it at once delighted and terrified her.

Rick, for his part, also felt anxious. Eager to kiss her, but hesitant to screw things up, he pulled her in close and waited for an indication to proceed. Michonne's lips, full with anticipation, gave him all the permission he needed. He obliged them, covering her mouth with his in a kiss that was both fervent yet tender.

Without the sense of urgency or need for secrecy, they took their time, lips and tongues exploring each other's as if for the first time. Everything felt new and exciting, but at the same time, lovingly familiar.

She could tell from the way he gently cradled her face in his hands to the way his smile crept up in between breaths that this was more than the usual lead-in to another round of blissful sex. He liked her. Lord, help her, he really liked her, and she knew she was in trouble.

"I could get used to this," she moaned as her fingers preoccupied themselves with the stray curls at the base of his neck. "I think I already have."

"What's that?" he asked, his voice breathy and laced with desire.

She beamed and simply replied, "Being with you."

"Let's get out of here," he mumbled, kissing her as he took her hand and guided her around the corner to a small park. Although he felt like a teenager again– giddy and drunk in love– and unconcerned with anyone who saw them, he knew this moment called for privacy.

Once they reached the clearing, he hungrily pulled her in by her waist and kissed her again, his hands sending her reeling as they roamed upward. Suddenly, he held back just enough to provoke her, then smiled.

"So are you?" he asked, taking the time to marvel at the features of her face.

"Am I what?" she asked.

" _With_ me?"

Michonne couldn't help but giggle, floored by how this man could be so appealingly confident _and_ adorably unsure all at once.

"Are you asking me out, Grimes?" She teased, rendered helpless by his obvious appetite.

Rick grunted affirmatively, and waited.

"I'm with you."


End file.
